


Lily!!! on Ice

by Kitsu_Iraka



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Alternate Universe - Skating, F/F, F/M, Ice Skating, Inspired by Yuri!!! on Ice, M/M, Tom Is A Dick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-08-02 17:46:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16309793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitsu_Iraka/pseuds/Kitsu_Iraka
Summary: At the Sochi Grand Prix, legendary English ice skater Tom Riddle has just won gold. Scottish skater Harry Potter, on the other hand, places last in the entire competition, following a mental breakdown. Potter returns home to Hogsmeade where he catches up with his family and friends. After a video of Harry perfectly replicating Tom's current free skate is secretly released on social media, Tom decides to travel to Scotland to become Harry's coach.Harry Potter & Yuri!!! on ICE crossover





	1. prologue

Harry closed his eyes.

He envisioned an endless lake where Tom Riddle was skating, cutting across the sheet of ice. The blades of his skates created ornate swirls.

Stars were shining up in the sky. The man was twisting and twirling on the ice. Black hair was whipping across his face.

‘He never fails to surprise me. Ever since I first saw his skating, it’s been a never-ending chain of surprises. Tom is truly a riddle to me.'

 


	2. Skate 1 - Easy as Haggis!! The Grand Prix Final of Tears - part 1

Tom Riddle skated out into ice, holding a bouquet of tiger lillies. Proudly wearing his gold medal around his neck, he waved to a cheering crowd.

The second and third place finishers, Victor Krum and Cedric Diggory respectively skated out too, waving to the public.

”He’s also crushed the free skating event! It will be the fifth consecutive Grand Prix victory for England’s legend, Tom Riddle.” For most of the Grand Prix Final in Sochi, viewers could hear the voice of famous Sportscaster Lee Jordan. Sports commentator was giving a running commentary of the event.

Tom offered a charming smile to the audience, holding up his gold medal while photographers were snapping pictures of him. When he kissed cold metal the audience went wild.

”Riddle is 27 years old. Some speculated that he might retire this season, but his masterful performance seems to lay such rumours at rest.” The voice of Seamus Finnigan, the second sportscaster, joined Jordan Lee.

Meanwhile, in the hallway, away from journalists and headlights, a black-haired skater with round-rimmed glasses was sitting on the chair and looking at his phone. His coach stood in front of him.

He wasn't able to hear the running commentary of sports commentators and their comments about him.

”As for Harry Potter, who earned a spot in the Grand Prix Final for the first time, what do you think, Seamus?”

”Well, he didn't perform like his usual self-today,” Finnigan replied with honest.

Harry Potter held phone case which was covered in scarlet-gold pattern. On his phone he had an article pulled up, titled: “Potter Defeated: Still Needs to Work on Nerves”. It had a picture of him with his head down while his coach Wood comforted him in the Kiss and Cry.

Potter’s coach, Oliver Wood, opened his mouth as if to complain more, then seemed to think better of it. ”Harry, don’t look at the news. Let’s go back.”

“Potter Fell to the Last Place. Is This Season His Last?” Harry read tonelessly, avoiding coach’s eyes.

Wood cleared his throat "Harry —" The skater turned back to him. It was hard to read any emotion on his face. He seemed somewhat bored by the whole thing.

The coach started one of his motivational speeches. Oliver Wood was known for his determination and long lectures. It was easy to see a maniacal look in his eyes when he was talking about figure skating.

But Potter didn't listen. He stood up and ignoring the coach's cries he walked to the restroom.

Meanwhile, a slender skater with sleek white-blond hair sneaked around the corner, leaned against a wall opposite the restroom, and then entered the restroom after Potter.

Harry, unaware that he was being followed, sat down on a toilet in the third stall. When Harry began to feel worse, he reached for the phone to call his godfather. After a moment, he heard a familiar voice.

”Hello? Sirius, how are you feeling? I’ve just read the message from Remus. Were you watching on TV? Huh? A public viewing?” he laughed sadly. Harry looked up, waving his arms in an embarrassed fashion. Suddenly he got serious; his lip quivers as his eyes tear up.

”I’m sorry. I messed up.” Harry dropped his hand to his lap, hanging up the phone and begun to sob into his hands.

‘I even moved to a training facility in Vienna and worked hard to make it to the final. But the pressure had me binge-eating before the match — And your crash —’

He simply wanted to get this off his chest. However, he was not brave enough to say it aloud.

‘Not after what had happened,’ he thought bitterly. Harry had never felt so lonely.

Spots of flashing light appeared before his eyes. He couldn't take it in.

‘I still can’t accept what happened! This couldn't be true, it couldn't.’

Harry's eyes were red, and big tears streamed down his cheeks, dropping on the floor.

‘Mentally and physically, I was at my worst! It was supposed to be my big day, too — Well, it’s all my fault, anyway.’

Blinded by the tears of rage and frustration that sprang up in his eyes, he had no idea that someone stood in front of his stall.

Suddenly, blonde violently kicked the stall door. Harry stood up, startled. He opened the stall, confronted by the younger skater who was looking at him with scorn.

‘Draco Malfoy — The Junior Grand Prix Final gold medalist.’ A blonde ferret was the last person he wanted to see.

"For God’s sake, Malfoy. Can't you just find another bog?! " Harry was shaking with rage from head to toe.

Malfoy stared at him like Scottish skater was a piece of trash. He pointed his finger in Harry’s face.

”I’m competing in the senior division next year. We don’t need cheap imitations in the same bracket. Incompetents like you should just retire already.”

Harry tried to control himself with all his might. If he reacted to Malfoy's assaults, his career would be over.

He took a deep breath, and then exhaled before saying, "Do you have anything else to tell me?"

English skater tsked and exited, leaving behind Harry.

Where appropriate, Harry could act sassy. But he couldn't help tears that were still running down his cheeks.

…

Harry was feeling nothing and everything all at once. Anxiety and depression both hit him at the same time. He just wanted to go back to the hotel as soon as possible.

With his coach, Harry was leaving the venue. Unfortunately, one of the news reporters called out to him.

”Mr. Potter!” Harry reluctantly turned around.

”Newscaster Rita Skeeter,” a woman smiled to him, but there wasn't anything nice at all in that apparently friendly gesture.

‘No kidding!’ He’d recognize that blond hag with the crocodile-skin handbag anywhere. Skeeter was a journalist who specialized in writing poison-pen stories. Her shameless lampoons tended to be based on false information and misreported interviews.

”Do you want to give up? Is it too early for you to retire?” Skeeter with her inseparable acid green microphone was ready to attack. Behind newscaster stood her cameraman.

”It’s not like I’ve made a decision. Please don’t make assumptions.”

”What will you do after you graduate from college?” Harry looked off and Skeeter continued to rattle off questions.

”Will you still train in Vienne?”

”I’ll be talking that over with Coach Wood.”

”Will you keep going?”

Harry didn’t answer, lost in thought.

Wood put a hand on his mentee’s shoulder. ”Excuse me, but we don’t have time for the interview,” he responded dryly. Skeeter completely ignored him.

”Maybe just part-time? You’ll still have a chance in Scotland.”

‘Scotland — I can’t just go home.’

Faintly as from a distance he heard Skeeter’s voice. ”Mr. Potter! I’m asking how you feel about this! I wonder if you could give me a quick word”

"Yeah you can have a word", he replied coldly. "Goodbye.” It was a snap answer, and Harry had to bite his tongue to catch it.

‘I’m going to regret it. Whatever. This day couldn’t get any worse —’

Ironically, that night, fate was still not on his side.

And none other than Tom Riddle was walking out of a set of doors with Draco Malfoy and their coach, Grindelwald.

”Harry Potter—” Harry reacted to the sound of his name. He turned around to see who said it but quickly realized that Tom was just talking to Malfoy.

”Don’t repeat his mistakes. And about your free performance; in the step sequence you could use some more —”

Draco threw back his head, annoyed. ”I won, so who cares? Quit nagging, Tom.”

”Hey, Draco! You can’t talk that way forever!” yelled Grindelwald. England team’s coach launched into a long-winded lecture, scolding younger skater.

Potter couldn't take his eyes off of Riddle. As their eyes met across the hall, English skater smiled charmingly at him. Harry tried to take a step backward but his legs wouldn't move. A moment later he gasped, and his body went rigid with shock.

”A commemorative photo? Why not,” Riddle’s voice seemed to Harry politely indifferent.

Harry turned and walked away, saddened, leaving behind a confused and slightly crestfallen Riddle.

”Mr. Potter! You don’t want a photo with Mr. Riddle?” Skeeter called after him. She looked like a ravenous vulture, ready to pounce on another cheap thrill.

Harry couldn't stand it anymore.

”Harry! Wait!” Coach Wood was trying to stop him but it was too late. He didn't look it, but he was very fast. Indeed, Harry Potter was probably the fastest professional figure skater in the world. But either way, it didn't really matter.

Meanwhile, Riddle gazed at Harry as run away.

...

Three months after the Sochi Grand Prix, Harry returned to his hometown, Hogsmeade.

Hogsmeade, located in the Scottish Highlands, was a castle town by the lake and one of the most popular tourist place in Scotland. During the winter town looked like a Christmas card. The little-thatched cottages and shops were all covered in a layer of crisp snow; there were holly wreaths on the doors and strings of enchanted candles hanging in the trees.

Harry, pulling his suitcase, looked around a train station. ”It’s been a while since my last visit. This old station looks the same as always.”

Harry gasped as he stepped on stairways. On the walls of the train station, he noticed many posters of him: We’re Rooting for You!!! Hogsmeade Figure Skater Harry Potter! Potter for President! GO GO Golden Boy!

”Th-This is…”

”Harry!” Potter turned around and saw his two uncles, Remus and Sirius.

Remus, as always, looked like he was going for afternoon tea. Indeed, a history teacher dressed in Oxford sweater vest was just the textbook definition of an Englishman.

Sirius, on the other hand, wore a band t-shirt (Kiss). His favourite black leather jacket casually slung over one shoulder. With long black hair, he looked like a frontman from the 80s rock band.

Sirius waved to him with the left hand in a cast, leaning on the crutch with his good arm.

Harry’s heart froze for a second.

”Welcome back, Harry,” Remus smiled at him warmly. Harry looked at his uncles and realized how much he missed them.

Suddenly their greeting stopped some teenagers in Hogwarts uniform, ”Hey! Isn’t that Harry Potter?”

Before long, one of the younger boys screamed rather loudly and pointed a finger at Harry. ”Yeah, it’s him.”

”I haven’t heard any news about him lately. What’s he been up to?”

”Remember Potter lost a big competition last year?”

”Was it the Nationals?” More and more random passers-by stopped to look at the local figure skater. Harry turned around, appeared mortified. Returning home, he was most afraid of questions about his sports career.

The figure skating competition season generally started in the fall, but he had lost big in the comprehensive Grand Prix Finals early on. Harry couldn’t have shaken off the failure and he lost again in the Nationals. He hadn't made it to the Four Continents or the World Championships, and now the season was over. Harry had managed to graduate from college, but he had ended things with his coach. He had decided to come home in the meantime.

In conclusion, his future was unclear.

A small boy came up to him, dragging an elderly woman behind him, most likely his grandmother.

”Let me shake your hand!” asked the child. Harry ducked his head, waving his hand as if he tried to shoo away fans.

”You don’t lose anything by shaking hands. You should be polite,” Remus said, in a calm tone.

Harry shook hands with a small child, who excitedly pumped his arm up and down. The exchange was almost painful to watch.

”Thank you for your support,” Harry murmured.

”Go on, smile.” Sirius didn't even try to hide the amusement in his voice.

Harry forcibly smiled, but it looked more like a grimace more than anything else. The old woman accompanying the child trembled.

”Sorry, I’m in a hurry,” said Harry.

”Hi, Hurry! I’m Sirius.” Harry had spent most of his childhood listening to terrible dad jokes that made him groan out loud when he heard them. His godfather was a self-appointed master of the puns and teller of indescribably cheesy and dumb jokes.

”Seriously?” A wide grin appeared on the man's face.

”Dad jokes? Again? They aren't funny.”

”Sirius, please stop,” Remus gave him a judging stare.

”Well, Harry said it, I didn’t.”

”For almost forty years you have been using the same puns. Do you think that they are still funny? After all this time?”

”Always,” he replied in the deadpan voice.

Sirius towed Harry by the arm,” All right! You’re going to greet everyone in town.”

”I’m sorry. I’m tired right now.”

”Oh, really? Everyone’s been dying to see you.”

"I would like to just come back home."

"So, to the Burrow."

Harry smiled in response. The Burrow was a place he could call home. A place he could belong.

…

One of the biggest attractions in Hogsmeade were hot springs, extremely rare in whole Scotland. The Burrow – the only hot springs resort in Hogsmeade, belonged to Weasley family.

Though Sirius and Remus were his legal guardians, Harry spent most of his childhood in The Burrow, growing up under the watchful eye of Molly Weasley.

…

World Figure Skating Championships in Tokyo was playing on TV at Hot Springs The Burrow. No wonder, Ice Hockey, Bandy and Figure Skating were the most popular sports in Hogsmeade. Especially, Figure Skating.

The attention of the guests and regulars was focused on TV.

”After the men’s short program of the World Figure Skating Championships, England’s Tom Riddle is in first place.”

Tom was walking into the venue with his coach Grindelwald while dozens of photographers took pictures of him. Tom took off his sunglasses, tossing his black hair, and winked at his fans, who gushed over him.

”After the Grand Prix Finals, he won the Nationals in England, as well as the European Championships. He’s still on a roll. The men’s free program will start later today, at 7:00.”

One of the guests turned around, addressing to Mrs. Weasley - a short, plump, and kindly-looking woman. Together with her husband Arthur, they had run the Burrow for years.

”Harry Potter isn’t in the World Championships?”

”He didn’t make the cut. Thanks to that, he can finally come home!” responded Mrs. Weasley.

”I’m glad to hear that,” said old man.

Just then, the front door slammed. Mrs. Weasley turned around to the sound of men entering through the front door.

”Molly! I brought Harry!” Sirius shouted, loud enough to get the attention of the guests.

”I’m back,” Harry added quieter. At the sight of him, Mrs. Weasley ran up to greet him.

”Thanks God! Harry, welcome home!”

”Thanks. I’m sorry, it’s been —” Before he could finish the sentence, Molly embraced him with all her might. He returned the embrace.

”Harry, how good to see you.” From behind the bar, Mr. Weasley leaned out. Arthur Weasley was a thin man, going bald, but the little hair he had was as red as any of his children’s.

”It's good to see you too Mr. Weasley.”

Without much thought, Harry took off his scarf and winter jacket. Everyone looked at him. He was wearing a sports t-shirt which adheres to his body. Probably, they could count all his ribs.

“You're just skin and bones,” Mrs. Weasley looked genuinely worried.

”I hope Oliver didn't starve you as part of his strange training,” Sirius seemed to be joking, but eyes were deadly serious.

”Don’t worry. This is the weight a figure skater should have,” said Harry. Remus looked at him reproachfully. Harry was rubbish at lies.

Mrs. Molly glared accusingly at Harry. ”Anyway, you look too skinny, Harry. Eat lots of Haggis tonight!”

”Uh, before that —” The door slid opened revealing Ginny, the only girl in Weasley family.

”Harry, welcome back.”

”Ginny — It’s been a while. Sorry to visit when things are busy.”

”You should be sorry for not calling.”

“Sorry.”

“Nevermind,” she looked at his suitcase in the middle of the room and the guests who watched Potter with curiosity.

”Let’s go to your room.” Ginny turned and walked back into the Burrow and Harry, after a long sigh, followed her.

They down a narrow passageway to an uneven staircase, which wound its way, zigzagging up through the house. They climbed three flights until they reached a door with a small plaque on it, saying HARRY’S ROOM.

Harry stepped in, his head almost touching the sloping ceiling, and blinked. It was like walking into a time machine: Nearly everything in the room seemed to remind his childhood. The bedroom seemed much smaller than he remembered. He put the suitcase down next to the wardrobe and threw himself on his bed. It was good to come back home.

Ginny leaned against the wall and gave him a long, attentive look.

”Hey, how long are you staying in Hogsmeade?”

”I don’t know.” Harry had no idea what to do with himself. He could always stay in hometown. Sirius certainly wouldn't mind.

”You went to college, even though you had to study an extra year. What will you do now?” Lying on the bed, Harry stared at the ceiling. Before leaving the Hogsmeade he had taken down his posters, and now he was able to see still light marks on the ceiling.

He didn't answer Ginny's question.

”If you are going to keep skating, I’ll support you, but —”

”I think — I need more time to think it over,” Harry smiled weakly.

Ginny nodded. ”Hmm, okay. Well, go soak in the hot spring and relax.”

…

The overview of Hogsmeade at sunset was simply magical. The window overlooked most of the town. In the distance, Harry could see the towers of Hogwarts Castle. The mountains around the town became icy gray. How much he missed this view.

He almost missed the most important thing.

Shortly before getting on the plane, he had written to Ron and Hermione – his dearest friends - then he had switched off the phone. Harry had promised to write as soon as he returned to Hogsmeade.

Harry checked their group chats The Golden Trio.

”When you haven't checked the group chat in an hour,” he quietly mumbled, remembering one of the memes.” He had almost a hundred unread messages.

”Hermione’s Gonna Kill me”

Harry send a quick answer, hoping that the next day they would have the opportunity to meet.

**I’m back home**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haggis is a savoury pudding containing sheep's pluck (heart, liver, and lungs); minced with onion, oatmeal, suet, spices, and salt, mixed with stock, and cooked while traditionally encased in the animal's stomach though now often in an artificial casing instead.  
> Although the name "hagws" or "hagese" was first recorded in England c. 1430, the dish is considered traditionally of Scottish origin. It is even the national dish, as a result of Scots poet Robert Burns' poem Address to a Haggis of 1787. Haggis is traditionally served with "neeps and tatties", boiled and mashed separately, and a dram (a glass of Scotch whisky), especially as the main course of a Burns Supper.


	3. Skate 2 - Easy as Haggis!! The Grand Prix Final of Tears - part 2

Harry left through the back door of the Burrow. It was a grey, cloudy day. He crossed the lawn and slumped down on the garden bench.

At the driveway, Harry noticed a familiar silhouette. Mrs. Weasley was lifting a crate out of a light blue Ford Anglia when he jogged past her.

”Oh, where are you going, Harry?”

”Sorry, I’m going to practice for a bit.”

”Take care! And tell Ron to come to dinner at last. I know that he sits in the evenings in Hog's Head.” Harry smiled under his breath. Hog's Head Inn was a slightly dodgy pub attracted an interesting clientele. It was also one of Sirius's favorite meeting places.

Harry ran along the winding, cobbled streets to get to Ice Castle, a local ice-skating rink in Hogsmeade. Narrow alleyways, often no more than a few feet wide, led steeply downhill to both north and south of the main spine which ran west to east. The street layout in the old town, typical of the old quarters of many northern European cities, was made especially picturesque in Hogsmeade.

He exited the tourist part of the town, filled with local shops and buildings include church, museum. The new part of Hogsmeade faced the main train station and was connected with the tourist part of the town in the north-west.

Harry looked at the modern building, bearing the "Ice Castle" sign; it was his home rink, where he had been skating here since he was very young.

He walked through the automatic doors. At the entrance he noticed a tall, red-haired guy, putting away pairs of rental skates.

”Hi, Ron.” The young man immediately turned to the sound of his voice.

”Harry! Meet you back here,” Ron smiled in response. ”I was waiting for you. Why didn't you earlier write that you were coming?”

”You know…” Harry lost for words, he didn't know how to put his thoughts into words. ‘You know I haven't forgotten about you and Hermione,’ he thought to himself.

”Oh, come on!” Ron dashed up to the counter. ”You came to skate, right? Go ahead. Hermione has already started.” Ron handed him some skates; he didn't even have to ask him for size.

”Thanks.”

”Welcome back.”

Harry headed for the locker room. He didn't like rented boots, but whenever he put on and tied up his skates, he felt a certain calmness descend on him. It was a relaxing activity.

After a long moment, he was ready to go back to the ice rink.

There was only one person on the ice. A silhouette of a young woman was spinning around with her arms over her head. Miss Granger’s bushy brown hair was whipping across her face. Many years ago Hermione was his rink mat. When they were kids, she was really good at skating.

The sight of the friend skating on the ice rink touched something in him. A huge wave of childhood memories hit him.

_They were watching together a TV show featuring a younger Tom Riddle skating his gold-winning program at the Junior World Championships in Sofia, Bulgaria. Ron with Harry sat on a bench, while Hermione stood in front of the TV. She was spinning around, holding up her pointer finger to show “number 1”._

_”Tom Riddle… He won the gold in the Junior Worlds with the highest score in history! He’s so cool!” she said enthusiastically._

_Harry's eyes widen, shining._

_..._

_They used to come together to Ice Castle after school._

_With Hermione, he absorbed all articles about figure skating, especially those about Tom Riddle. Ron always preferred comic books._

_Hermione showed him a frame of a magazine featuring Tom and his beloved pet._

_”This says Tom has a snake. Nagini!”_

_”Wow, so cool!”_

_However, his best friend didn't share his enthusiasm for the reptiles._

_”People like dogs or cats. But snakes?” Ron winced._

_"I know you prefer pets that have eight legs to snakes,” said Harry. His face blanched. Ron was terribly afraid of spiders._

_From that day Harry loved snakes. Not long after, he managed to persuade Sirius to buy Tommy._

A strangled squawk drew Harry back to the present.

”Harry!” He looked at Hermione, who was skating towards him.

”How could you!” Hermione looked furious, but after a moment she wrapped her arms around him as if he was about to disappear.

"I missed you too, Hermione."

”Wanna group hug?” Ron held out his hands to them and put his arms around friends, showing love and support. Golden Trio started laughing. Then they slipped and together fell on ice. Harry slowly stood up and handed his glasses to Hermione from the ice.

”Um, I wanted you to see this, so I’ve been practicing it since the competitions ended. Please watch.”

Harry glided onto the ice, and then he bowed his head. He looked up, with a solemn face.

”Huh? This is—” Hermione gasped.

”O shit! ‘Mione, can you borrow me your phone? I must record this!”

”Y-yes—” Without taking her eyes from Harry, she handed the phone to her boyfriend.

Their friend sped around the ice where he pulled off an impressive array of dance moves. Harry was imitating all moves from Riddle's free skate which Tom had performed at the Sochi Grand Prix Final.

Potter jumped with an entrance from a back outside edge, landing on the back outside edge of the opposite foot. Harry performed a long glide on a left backward outside edge in a wide arc into the corner of the rink. Just prior to jumping, he reached back with the right arm and the right foot and used his right toepick to vault into the air. Then he made a perfect full turn in the air, landing on the right back outside edge.

Jump followed by a spin...

…a quadruple flip. Harry landed this one too.

It was a true magic on the ice. With his whole body, Harry was creating a mix of steps and moves, illuminating with his soundless music the ice rink. It was quiet. Only grinding sound of blades, hitting in the ice was breaking a silence.

Ron and Hermione could feel it, they could imagine the sound of the ”Aria: Stammi vicino, non te ne andare"

_Stay Close to Me_

He approached the jump on a right back outside edge in a strongly held check position before stepping on a left forward outside edge. He vaulted over the toe pick of the left skate and "steps up" into the jump with his right leg. The skater crossed the left foot in front of the right, to bring the center of rotation around the right side of his body. He uncrossed his legs during the landing, allowing him to flow out of the jump with good speed.

Then he made combination spin.

”A triple Salchow,” Hermione whispered loudly.

Harry made triple rotations in the air in the direction of the curve of the take-off edge. The landing ended on the back outside edge of his foot opposite the one he used for take-off. He held the landing position on a jump.

Ron pursed his lips and whistled.

Flying sit spin…

…a series of jumps and the step sequence…

… a triple Lutz. A triple Flip. And the last quad…

Hermione could envision Riddle's silhouette in skating of her friend. It was a true creation of motion. They watched how Harry was playing gracefully on the ice. Moving with a steady swiftness, yet seeming to melt into the music in his heart, he abandoned himself to speed and poise to attain a state of grace.

Harry stood in the final pose, breathing heavily. His face was flushed.

Hermione was just standing; her eyes were shining and hands were covering her mouth. She pounded her hands on the rink boards. Her voice pierced the silence with a high screech.”That was amazing! ”A perfect copy of Riddle!

Ron started clapping. ”Awesome! I thought you’d be depressed or something!”

Harry put his arm around a neck. ”I was. But I got bored of feeling depressed, so I got to thinking — I wanted to get my love for skating back. I thought I could remember how it was when I copied Tom —, I’ve—” he paused.

“You don't have to say anything," said Hermione, giving him back his glasses. She reached out and put her hand on his hand, squeezed it a little. Her eyes expressed more than words could have conveyed.

”Bro, you really did skinner them I remember!” Ron lifted up Harry’s shirt, revealing his ribs stomach.

”H-Hey, stop that!” Harry resisted weakly.

”You can come any time to practice. We have always got your back.” Ron's warm smile made him want to smile in turn.

During the years when Harry had been away, he tried to ignore a lot of things by focusing on skating. However, in Hogsmeade, among family and friends, he had the chance to put things together.

Or at least he hoped so.

…

In the Burrow, Harry with regulars was watching a special feature on TV.

Malfoy leaned against the rink boards drinking from a royal blue bottle, looking merely indifferent while his coach Grindelwald lectured at him.

”Here in London rising star, Draco Malfoy is finally gearing up in earnest to join the senior competition.”

Draco was shown doing a spectacular jump.

”What’s with that jump? Whoa, another one?” Harry leaned over the table, dumbfounded.

”Under Coach Grindelwald, the 18-year-old is about to join Tom Riddle in ushering England into an era with two champions.”

Just retire already. He couldn’t forget Malfoy’s words in the restroom after the Grand Prix Final.

”That blonde ferret — I hope he breaks his leg.”

…

Over the last week, Weasley family had only seen Harry at mealtimes so far; he stayed shut in his room the rest of the time.

There were always worse and better days ahead. Recently, a lot worse.

For the first couple of weeks back, he had been trying to enjoy free time. Ron and Hermione tried to keep him amused a bit. They were skating together in Castle Ice. They went also together to the Three Broomsticks.

In fact, latterly he had had many worse days. He lost of interest in daily activities. He didn’t care anymore about skating; he had lost his ability to feel joy and any pleasure.

Even his friends were unable to deal with him 24/7. Ron worked at Ice Castle and ran skater classes. He also trained in the bandy team. Hermione did her internship at Hogwarts.

And he lay all day long, still being dependent on his godfather.

‘Good job, Harry. Pat on the back, I’m 23 and I have no fucking idea what to do with my life.’

Harry was one of the dime-a-dozen top skaters certified by the SIS but without figure skating he was only pathetic guy without perspective, feeling fatigued, sluggish, and physically drained.

He sat cross-legged on the floor and looked into the eyes of the idol. The whole room was plastered with posters of Tom Riddle. On the official photos Riddle looked like a dark prince with perfect dark hair, the sharp swoop of his jawline and the rich, intelligent hazel eyes and that flawless skin.

Harry also has a limited edition of Tom’s dakimakura - a type of large body pillow from Japan. English skater was very popular in the country of Cherry Blossom.

Tom Marvolo Riddle. The living legend in men's singles figure skating. He's won five consecutive World Championships, five straight Grand Prix Finals, and numerous European championships. By the age of 16, he was already at the top of the figure skating world, under the guidance of his coach Gellert Grindelwald.

Harry dreamed about skating on the same ice as Tom someday. Unfortunately, his meeting with beloved idol turned out to be one big disaster.

‘That was humiliating. I was an idiot for thinking that I could finally meet my idol on the same playing field—’ He sighed deeply.

”I wonder what I need now so I can keep skating on my own”

Suddenly, his phone chimed, a notification popped up. He picked it up to checked this.

”Huh? Ron?” His best friend sent him a link to the video on his official figure skating account.

”What the?!” It was a 4:43 video titled: [Harry Potter] Tried to Skate Riddle’s FS Program [Stay Close to Me].

He didn't even have to watch it, to know where that was going.

Harry started trembling. “Ron, how did you —? What the —?”

The phone started ringing...again.

”I’m sorry, Harry.” He could hear Hermione's worried voice on the other side of the telephone. ”Fred and George stole this from my phone. And they uploaded the video, and it went viral.”

Fred and George, Ron’s older twin brothers, were famous YouTubers, best known for funny pranks and magic tricks. That way of life was typical to them.

”How they could use my account without permission again?!” Harry yelled.

Meanwhile, in Ron’s flat, George sat rather contently, watching the video on a laptop while Fred was explaining something his younger brother.

”But our— Harry’s fans will love it.”

”Just fucking delete it!” yelled Ron.

”Too late,” George added airily.

In his room Harry keeled over, dropping his phone, and begun to snore. Suddenly, Ginny burst into his room, holding her smartphone in a hand.

”What’s with that video?! It’s being retweeted everywhere!”

”I don’t know! Perhaps you should you ask about this your brothers!”

Ginny clenched her fist. ”Fuck! Fred and George— I gonna kill them!”

…

Meanwhile, Grindelwald’s team was training in London.

Draco Malfoy leaned against the rink boards, looking at his smartphone. Coach Grindelwald stood on the ice with the rest of his mentees, Nymphadora Tonks and George Preston.

”That Scottish Pott is an idiot,” blonde skater tsked.

”Hey, Draco! Don’t slack off!” yelled Grindelwald, running out of patience.

…

In a modern apartment with industrial elements, Tom Riddle was lying on a couch with his beloved Nagini, wrapped around his arms.

The loft where the famous skater lived, was bright and exceptionally spacious due to its large windows, high ceilings and smart decorating scheme. Contrasting grey tones on the furniture and accessories against the white walls created an intriguing visual effect. In the apartment pulled straight from the catalogue, didn't run out of space for books.

Books could be found everywhere in the apartment - on the shelves, on the bookcase, in the bedroom. Bunch of books on the coffee table was waiting to be read.

Tom had just watched a short video – recently popular on social media. Millions of views, thousands of comments, many of tags: #riddle #tomriddle #figureskating #potter

A hint of pensiveness etched on his handsome face.

Nagini hissed in a pleased tone.

Tom looked up, deep in thought.

…

”Tom — Tom —,” Harry moaned softly in his sleep, hugging his body pillow tightly.

A loud knocking at door woke him up.

”Harry, don’t hole up in your room!” Potter got up, eyes fluttering open as he yawned.

_Thank goodness_ , he thought, it wasn't one of those wet dreams with the great final in which Tom always appeared.

Ginny stood in front of the door. ”Help shovel snow!”

”Snow?” Harry raised an eyebrow, adjusting his glasses. He slipped off the bed then opened the curtains, astonished by the snowfall.

”Wow, what the— It’s already April, too.” Overnight, Hogsmeade had been covered by a crisp, clean duvet of white, and even sleep-clouded Harry was eager to go outside and leave his mark. There was nothing quite like being the first one to make a footprint in thick, new snow.

”What’s on the news?” Harry picked up his smartphone. Of course, the photo of Riddle was on his wallpaper.

”Oh, yeah — I turned it off so I wouldn’t get calls.”

Harry looked at phone’s clock - it was late afternoon. Ever since he had come home, he had been sleeping till noun. All too often he had stayed up all night and had slept all day.

"You better hurry up! I'm going to tell mom that you have finally woken up," said Ginny and left his room.

After a while, he received several messages regarding missed calls. Most came from Sirius and Hermione. Remus and Rona wrote to him only once, asking him for a contact with a bored godfather/ overprotective friend.

He sighed.

Harry pulled on yesterday's clothes he found on the floor. Yawning, he slouched into the hallway.

And what a surprise, he saw Mr. Weasley with a snake on his hands.

"Harry, it's good that you woke up. We have new guests! It looks just like your Tommy.

It was a boa constrictor – Harry’s favourite snake. Before his figure skater career, he had owned a snake. But it couldn't be his Tommy. The serpent on Mr. Weasley's hands was bigger and had a unique reddish-brown pattern.

”Huh? Could she be— No, it can’t be.”

”The snake came with a really good-looking guest! He’s in the hot spring right now" The serpent hissed softly as if she had confirmed Mr. Weasley’s words.

Harry wildly scrambled to his feet, almost falling on the hardwood floor.

”Harry! What’s wrong?” asked Mr. Weasley, looking sincerely worried.

Potter ran like a bat out of hell; he rushed past some tables, knocking them over. He slid through a hot tub room, rubbing the fog off his glasses, then he proceeded to hurtle through a set of doors to the outdoor hot spring, where he stood, flabbergasted.

Tom Riddle was soaking in one of the hot springs like it was nothing.

”T-Tom — Why are you here?” Riddle stood up and waved his hand with a flourish. Apparently, his nudity didn't bother him in the slightest. Harry's look wandered down the man’s chest as water ran down his bare skin.

He couldn't stop gazing at Riddle's You-Know-What.

”Harry, starting today, I’m your coach. I’ll make you win the Grand Prix Final.” Tom winked to him.

”Huh?” Harry was in complete and utter shock; his mouth fell open as the full impact of what he was hearing hit him.

”What?!”

Tom Riddle was a genius who never failed to surprise him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bandy is a team winter sport played on ice, in which skaters use sticks to direct a ball into the opposing team's goal.  
> The sport is considered a form of hockey and has a common background with association football, ice hockey, and field hockey. Like football, the game is normally played in halves of 45 minutes each, there are eleven players on each team, and the bandy field is about the same size as a football pitch. It is played on ice like ice hockey, but like field hockey, players use bowed sticks and a small ball.  
> In Scottish Gaelic the name for bandy is "ice shinty" (camanachd-deighe) and once upon a time bandy and shinty (and shinney) could be used interchangeably in the English language.


End file.
